30 SEPTEMBER 1938, Page 15

THE CINEMA

STAGE AND SCREEN

EVEN that lowest form of sensate life, the film critic, may in these days be credited with human feeling. He may possibly even be pardoned from turning away from the reviewing— on a standard of criticism as high as he dare make it and only too low at that—of the mixed bag of films which a changed and febrile Metropolis happens to be offering. He must turn from the particulars to the more general aspects of the medium. For Cinema is undoubtedly a force, how strong it is indeed difficult to calculate, but a strong force at any rate, in the moulding of the minds and characters of millions of men and women. Its only rival is the Radio ; but, although broadcasting has an even wider audience, it is still possible that the influence of the film—if only because of its visual impact, carrying with it the exploitation of personality— is, in a way, more powerful. At a time when civilisation trembles between dear sanity and madness (sans strait- waistcoat), it is not impertinent to consider how well or ill the medium of cinema has been used.

It has at least proved its power. It has, many think, proved itself an art. It has established itself for good or ill as a social force. All this it has done as a commercial pro- position, in the name of box-office, of dividends and profits. It has earned a reputation for crazy finances, dyspeptic opulence, salaciousness, insincerity, blasphemy. All these attributes—good or evil—it deserves, for it is a sprawling, crude, unwieldy and disorganised thing. The major point is that its influence is wide and vivid.

The measure of its contribution to our present miseries is of less interest than the measure of its constructive work. From the great mass—and let no one try to disguise its size or its ugliness—from the great mass of mediocre productions there projects just a handful of pioneer efforts whose excel- lences may perhaps be the more vivid for their rarity. From U.S.A. we have seen the dramatisation—often in the most lurid terms—of the appeal to our social conscience. From Russia—under a rigid State control—we have seen at best a vision of the good life, and, at worst, new advances in the .,.reative use of the medium. From France have come satire and fantasy. From Britain, mostly outside the commercial world, the vivid and successful documentaries of Grierson, Rotha and the rest. From Germany came a sense of history and a sense of social justice, until her industry fell to ruins as the Nazis came to power. And, from all countries, in all languages and in all words, have come indictments of war. Take it by and large, Cinema, with its Pasteurs, its Kronstadts, its Grande Illusions, its Kameradschafts, has something to be

said for it. • In the event of war, the importance of the film is obvious. As an outlet for hysteria it can supply a far wider audience than previously with Bing Boys and Chu Chin Chows. From town to town tap-dancers will drown machine-guns, and swing vie with the sirens. As an instrument of propaganda, whether nationalised or merely influenced from Headquarters, it may well become recruiting sergeant, instructor, organiser of non- combatants, and creator of morale.

To do all this it will of necessity shed many of its hard earned robes of decency. The claims of propaganda in a national emergency are humourless and often vile. Who knows, after all, if we shall not take it with us into the bottomless pit ? But, if sanity is at last restored, we may at least hope that there will have been some who have preserved the meagre standards it has already reached, and that in the future, there will be many more who will make better use of its possibilities.

To say that Cinema has succeeded in spite of itself is to accuse ourselves. We are misusing a fine tool. As an instru- ment of education—in the wider sense of the word, the sense of civics and social consciousness—it is an instrument of incalcu- lable value. • Its range and appeal Are truly international ; and had its message been better the word would not be sounding so strange and far-off in our ears today. It can decorate with jam the unpalatable facts of politics and economics—it can even make them exciting and inspiring on their own merits. If they are spared, the democracies_ should take care to use it better, for it is worth a more serious consideration than it